Fall Of Ruin And Wrath Series Novels & Stories

Her stomach twisted in pain, and the sniffle she had tried to hold back slipped out freely. Alex turned the knob, opening the door. “Not like you gave a damn decades ago,” he added, swallowing hard. He wanted to stop. He couldn’t. The dam had cracked open. Everything—his frustration, his anger came pouring out onto her. “So don’t come here pretending to be the perfect goddamn mother. Because you know what, Jenny? You’re not.” Her sobs broke loose. Alex let his hand fall from the knob and turned fully toward her. “You’re just a fucking failure. Like that bastard of a father. And like me,” he yelled.

she intones, “the true heart waits.” I’m the Convergence—bridge or ruin—and as the second relic’s pulse floods the wastes, Cassia’s fragile life, Taryn’s sacrifice, Renn’s redemption, and Maddox’s vengeance collide. The blade demands my heart, a new enemy rises, and with the Veil fracturing, I face a war I may not survive.

I said softly. “Yes.” He said. His eyes moved toward Aurelia’s crib across the room. “And fear spreads faster than loyalty ever does.” I watched his expression carefully and then noticed the grief beneath it; he was not grieving for the man his father was, but for the damage left behind afterwards. “You are not him,” I said quietly. Ruin’s gaze returned to mine. “I know.” Simple words, but months ago he would not have answered that quickly. Back then, guilt and violence defined too much of his identity. He believed survival required becoming dangerous enough to destroy threats before they reached him, but now he understood strength differently: not domination but responsibility, protection,

I looked toward the open warehouse doors, where daylight spilled across the concrete floor. "Now I find out why a father declared war on his own daughter. And if Raj Varma has another reason..." I thought of Drisana sleeping upstairs, bruised and unaware that the greatest betrayal of her life wore her own surname. "...he'd better pray it's good enough." Without another word, I walked out of the warehouse. This wasn't over. It had only just begun.

Day three, they come. Not together. One by one, like challengers. **Thorn Two** drops from the sky. Wings. He’s not wolf, not human. Bird-boned, hollow, eyes like knives. “I am Wrath,” he says. “I judge the King.” He dives at Cael. Rowan intercepts, claws out. They crash into the stump, splintering it. “Stop,” I shout. “By order of the King—” “He hasn’t earned it,” Wrath snarls, pinning Rowan. “A baby doesn’t rule, strength rules.”

But for power. The archives held names. Lineages. Weaknesses. Every lie the wolves told to justify their blood-soaked crown. And if I couldn’t kill Vanquise tonight, I could at least start mapping out the ruins of the world I planned to destroy. Because no one would hurt me again without consequence. Not him. Not Ryden Fall. Not any of them. I shoved the sleeve down over my wrist, hiding the golden glow and the crackling burn beneath it. A breath. Then another. Just enough to walk. To move without shaking.

“There will be no stopping at all.” Serenya’s chest rose against his, her breath catching on the chains he tried to forge between them. She closed her eyes, trembling, daring, whispering, “Then don’t stop.” Lightning flashed. Thunder shattered the air. And in that heartbeat, choice burned away, leaving only ruin. The Ruin Chosen The storm became their witness. His restraint snapped like glass beneath a hammer. One heartbeat he was frozen before her, the next his mouth claimed hers with a hunger that had slept centuries and awoke starving.

Just for a moment. But then, from the depths of his mind, came another voice. Deep, calm, merciless. “Do you truly think love will save you again?” The sky bled crimson. Soren’s aura flared outward, a tidal wave of energy that shook the air itself. Lucien stepped back, triumphant, his face lit by the godfire unfolding before him. The god within Soren—the Ruin—was awakening, and every heartbeat of his vessel sent tremors through the valley.

“A goddess of ruin, worshipped by those who would see creation burn.” Nyra’s heart clenched. “I know that sign,” she replied, voice low. “It’s hers... my sister’s.” Behind the Covenant’s front lines strode a figure wrapped in tattered silks, crowned with horns of black iron. Her eyes glowed molten gold. She moved with predatory grace: Selene Blackthorn, reborn as Mother of Ruin. Guards scattered before her as though she commanded the very earth. Caelum put a hand on Nyra’s arm. “She leads them,” he said, exhale hitching. “Your twin… the one you thought lost.”

I stood in the ruins of a battlefield—bodies of fallen wolves scattered around her. At the center, Raven stood, smirking. "This is what your unity brings," he taunted. "Death. Betrayal. Failure." I clenched her fists. "This isn’t real." Raven stepped closer, his voice soft, cruel. "Isn’t it? How many will die because of your foolish dream?" The bodies of my fallen warriors stared at me with lifeless eyes. A cold weight settled in her chest. What if he was right? What if she was leading them to ruin?